


Cruel is the Night

by pinkcherub



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Angst, Canon Divergence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Force Bond (Star Wars), Force-Sensitive Reader, Original Character(s), Past Relationship(s), Reader-Insert, Smut, Strong Female Characters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-02
Updated: 2019-10-02
Packaged: 2020-07-29 11:21:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20081365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinkcherub/pseuds/pinkcherub
Summary: Swallowed by darkness, Kylo Ren is still on the mind of those he left behind.





	1. days of peace, nights of terror

The last rays of the sun are dancing on the vast piles of snow, turning white to deep orange. The colours of the last hours of the day - warm and tender - contrast with the blackness of the forest - cold and unwelcoming.

The young woman sits still, observing the scenery behind the big glass frame. The light lingers on her face, bringing out the warm colour of her brown eyes, caressing several tiny beauty marks that are littered all over her cheeks. She is dressed in black, but the light still finds its home in the small jewels on her robe - sewn in the dark material, they form constellations on her back and shoulders, now blinking cheerfully under light's touch. They tell her, "someone of your age and position should never dress in black!" or "this colour dulls your face, young princess!", but she doesn't listen. Not only because other people's opinions about your appearance should never stir you (something her grandmother always told her), but also because black looks and feels like armour, like protection. Because without some kind of armour she might as well shatter and disappear - if _he_ left why should _she_ stay? 

And the time doesn't heal, it never does - she wakes up and goes to sleep in an empty bed, trains alone, walks in the forest alone. _Alone_.

She stands up slowly, the robe on her shoulders shifting with every step she takes closer to the glass. The nature outside is still and every living thing is ready for the night to take over. The woman is quiet too, but the visions from the recent nightmare are coming back - faded, but very persistent. Invisible fingers are forming around her throat, the cold spreads from her chest to the very tips of her fingers. 

"My Lady."

Captain Troy's warm and familiar aura scares off the shadows from the corners of her mind. She senses a brush of worry in the male's voice and tilts her head, looking at him over the shoulder. "Ikkena?"

His stance softens under her gaze. "General Leia and Han Solo are here, as well as the two young ones. They are waiting for you in the Marble room," Ikkena reports, voice low and soothing.

The princess hums, turning around completely; a slight smile frames her lips as she studies the captain's familiar face. The sun rays are filling the gallery with loving warmth, washing the empty walls with radiant orange. She always wanted this particular room to be without any decorative elements (only a pile of pillows before the window frame) - that way, the natural light from outside was able to claim the space without any obstacle; that way, _he_ was able to spend time meditating here, with her by the side. Just the two of them in content with one another, warmth and the Force flowing in a calm pace around them. She rarely visits this room now. 

The rays of coral are on captain Troy's dark skin, caressing his face like a lover. His green eyes are looking intently at the woman before him, waves of affection rolling of his tall figure. Her voice comes out soft and calm. 

"Our guests must be very tired. Make sure their rooms are ready."

The vision of Leia laughing with a _young dark-haired man_ invades her mind for some time. 

"Yes, my Lady," Ikkena nods n and disappears behind the heavy doors. 

She looks back at the glass screen - the orange was replaced by deep red and this scenery mesmerises her. She stands still for some time, unconsciously ghosting over the miniature hoop on her ring finger. The scenes of the nightmare are coming back again and now _he _is standing on the other side of the glass. _His_ black robes envelope _his_ tall frame, _he_ is nothing and everything at this instant - a merciless warrior, a shadow, a demon. The lightsaber ignites in his hand, its gleam imitating the crimson of the snow. The princess frowns, shutting her eyes tight, trying to find a safe corner in her mind. 

With the sound of the weapon still humming in her ears, the princess leaves the room in quiet strides. The robe is shuffling behind her, the constellation of the Great Hunter on her back twinkling under crimson rays. 

* * *

"B-Ben..."

A whisper, a breath, a plead. Her rich robes are slipping from her shoulders, revealing gentle flesh to the Moon's gaze. She is panting, sunk deep into the velvet armchair with her hands in the hair of the Jedi between her legs.

He is kneeling before her, eyes glimmering with lust and awe. She is perfect like that - vibrating heat radiating off her, restless under his attentive touch.

The dark-haired man resumes kissing her thigh, not breaking the eye contact and she whimpers softly - music to his ears.

"What is it, my princess?"

His voice is thick with want, hoarse and deep and her body answers to him, curving out graciously. The moonlight embraces the newly revealed skin of her tender breast and in an instant Ben is a man possessed, pressing her back into the couch, smothering her with open-mouthed kisses.

"Ben, _fuck_... ah,_ Ben!"_

She hisses and glances at him through thick lashes; he is a predator over her and her head falls back with a silent gasp as he snakes his large hand under her robes, ghosting over her pulsing core through fabrics. He is chuckling, revelling at the reaction of her body - all his, under his control. 

"Yes? Is there something I can do, my Lady?"

He leans, breathing her in, slowly massaging her tight nub and she shivers, moaning languidly, clenching her hands around his biceps.

_don't stop_

He grunts at the voice in his head, planting possessive kisses on her shoulders, leaving dark marks in his wake; moving lower, he catches a swollen pearl of her nipple in his mouth, sucking and caressing it with his tongue. A deep moan vibrates against his lips. 

"Be-_ah_\- _lower_, Ben," she whines and shivers as he blows on her wet bud, dark eyes admiring the glistening flesh.

Ben tuts, gently prodding her slit with two long fingers.

"Ah, princess," he coos at her, smiling from below. "That doesn't sound like enough instructions for me."

She lets out a breathless moan as he inserts two fingers, their movement eased by the wetness of her core. He chuckles into her skin, pressing one last kiss in between her breasts, lingering in the warm cavity for just a little longer.

"What do you want," he whispers, setting a slow, deep pace with his fingers that numbs her tongue. "Look at me."

Breathing heavily, the princess opens her eyes, facing her torturer.

"_You._"


	2. dancing with the shadows

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, I hope you are safe and content.  
I was listening to Slowdive's "Falling Ashes" on repeat while writing this chapter. Someone's on my mind and I can't seem to shake him off.

The forest is buzzing with birds' conversations. Full of rich shades of green, the pines stand tall and proud, filling the air with deep, fragrant smell and you inhale with great pleasure. These trees hold so much secrets - your lips part involuntary at the memory of _his_ body flushed to yours against rough surface of a trunk.

_"Become one with me - the nature will be our witness."_

"I have heard so much about you," Rey whispers behind you as if she's revealing her darkest secret. "They say you turn into a silver dragon under the moonlight and scour the fields, beheading every Sith with a flick of your wrist, and that yo-"

She stops abruptly when you turn to her with a raised eyebrow. You take a moment to take in her warm features, illuminated under the rays of the afternoon sun. Rey's eyes - a little bit lighter than yours - glimmer under the light like smouldering pieces of coal. Your gaze lingers on her face a little more and you realise that you want nothing more but to protect her with all you have. The thought is simpler than the colour of the sky above your heads.

_His hands are warm on your thighs and his lips never leave your mouth - massaging them with his own, Ben kisses you slowly, suckling and biting on your lower lip, savouring you as if you were the most delectable dessert._

"That does not sound half bad," you purse your lips in mock consideration and Rey suppresses a giggle. Your eyes study her form once more and you sigh with a sad smile, turning back to the forest again. The weather has not been pleasant all week and the traces of this night's rain are now glistering like tears on the grass and leaves. Today is different. The morning after General Leia's arrival greeted you with spotlessly clean skies and lavish warmth: sun rays were washing over the valley and the forest as if trying to apologise for such long absence. With every inhale you made, your head was becoming lighter, clearer and you once again wondered at the difference certain people's presence made. With Leia and Han came Hope and parental protection. The Force stirred in you anew.

_His strong leg is in between yours; he is rocking it upward, causing sweet friction to your core, teasing you. His breath is hot and laboured near your ear and he nips on your lobe - one of his large hands is stifling the lewd moans and whimpers you are no longer trying to control, while the other holds your leg on his thigh, opening your warmth to his ministrations even more. _

_"Do you think this is the training Master Luke talked about?" Ben nudges at your cheek, placing an unexpectedly chaste kiss on your temple. "Do you think he can sense your arousal, how wet you are for me, my Lady?" you gasp at his words, writhing under his body. He makes a strong thrust with his hips, pressing you further into the trunk's dry surface and you hiss, your hands curl into fists on his shoulders. Ben smirks. _

_"Dirty girl."_

Rey has stepped in front of you. "I am...lost," she confesses, her eyes watching you carefully, intently. "That lightsaber that Maz made me touch, I...", she stammers and frowns, "I'm not sure if I'm hearing just my own thoughts anymore."

The Force vibrates around her, pulsates with the sheer frustration of her words, but she doesn't seem to notice. You stretch out a hand, beckoning her closer, voice soft and soothing.

"A lightsaber is not just a weapon, Rey." (Her name is easy and strong on your tongue - the sound of it is so familiar, as if once heard in a dream, as if the wind was whispering it to you all this time). You place a hand on her forearm, squeezing it lightly. "It is part of a Jedi, a flow of energy that listens and feels, too. It's alive long after the death of its maker, but without a rightful owner, any lightsaber's kyber crystal will simply fade," you murmur, studying her strong hands in yours, thumbs ghosting over old scars on her palms. You imagine Anakin's lightsaber in her hands, its cerulean glow reflecting in her eyes as she twirls the weapon. You see scarlet too.

"I have a strong feeling that you will become a great Jedi Knight," you muse, cold fingers tucking away a stray hair to the back of her ear. Rey is blushing, blinking in disbelief and you laugh lightheartedly at her reaction. She locks you in a long, sure embrace, sniffling into your robes, chanting gratitudes like prayers and you shush her quietly, petting softly at her back, pushing all the warmth in the embrace. Your mind is numb.

_Ben's circular motions on your clit draw out a deep shiver from your body. _ _"Mm, you like that, don't you?" he whispers in your neck, worrying the tender skin near your pulse. _

_Choking back a moan, you buck your hips onto his hand and his long, thick fingers work inside of you, pumping slowly, the sound and the sight of your wetness causing him to curse under his breath, "So wet on my fingers...fuck." _

_With a spare hand, Ben is already fumbling with his robes to free his aching length, pulsing with need; you swallow at the sight of his head with a fat drop of precum at the tip. A moment - and a sweet feeling of fullness strikes your body with electricity and you groan low, pushing Ben closer with your hips and legs, revelling at the warmth of his body and mind, both so tightly intertwined with yours now. A blissful shiver touches the young man and he presses his forehead to yours, smiling in delight, your breaths mingled as he waits a seconds before moving. His strong thrusts come in between his words - rather to himself than you - and you choke back whimpers, feeling his breath on your lips. _

_"You. Are. Mine." _

_The mantra echoes in your own mind with doubled power._

Rey's smile, all wide and so extremely sincere and grateful, seems like it can illuminate even pitch darkness. In that one emotion, you see her all - she is the Light. Were you ever the Light, for once? Your breath hitches, involuntary tears sting corners of your eyes; you sob quietly, ducking away from her radiant signature. You turn to the vibrant green of the woods again, avoiding the reflection of who you used to be. The skies are the colour of bluebell.

_Ben holds you tight by your waist, both of you still recovering from your highs. His face is pressed in your hair and he's gulping your smell in, drowsy from both the warmth of your skin and the quiet, drowning orgasm._

_"_ _You were made to be held like this by me." _

_Ben's voice is leaves' rustle and rain's song on Saturday morning. His voice is your favourite sound._

One of the layers of evening skies - intense, almost violet purple- works in perfect contrast with the rigid parallel of the horizon. Sitting outside with a blanket on your shoulders, you are already dressed in your long nightgown; the wind is moving the silk fabric, opening your ankles to light, feathery kisses. You sink deeper in your armchair, cicadas and owls singing you to sleep.

"Ikkena would definitely be upset by this," you muse before dozing off with a sly smile on your lips. Were you the Light, for once?

_"We were made for each other's embrace."_


	3. the beauty of the morning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if they do Kylo's hair dirty in the new movie i'm going to riot.
> 
> p.s. <3

The tree branch is thick at its root - it holds your weight without a single protest. The cold is biting your skin just slightly through the mask and robes, but you don't really mind. The glade down below is covered with snow - a perfectly opened space, framed by tall and quiet pines. The winter sun bleeds through the branches, drawing crooked shadows on the fragile snow.

And just like that, the scene changes. A whirlwind of black invades the serene silence, red energy crackling by his side. The dark figure scours the place, his free hand shaking, curled into a fist. Your eyes fall on his heaving chest and the sweetest of shivers crawls up your back.

A breath - and you’re crouching on a rock behind him,white dust circling in the rays, disturbed by the landing. He freezes when you move closer, chin lightly touching his shoulder. A whiff of musk hits your nose and _oh stars thank you for this damn mask._

_"You are in danger, Kylo Ren," a rasp whisper comes out from the mask. "Following someone's orders surely doesn't seem like you, wouldn't you agree?"_

_He twists, taking a swift step back, heavy robe barely escapes the angry magma of his lighsaber. The visor of his helmet scans the figure before him - now standing straight, the black of their dress resonates with the purity of the snow._

_"Not everyone is able to get that close to me," Ren regards the new acquaintance, slowly twirling his lightsaber. The stranger is wearing a sleeveless tunic and a high neck undersuit; strong legs in tight boots peeking through the robes. No armour whatsoever. The mask is covering their head fully, golden strokes on the dark canvas contour their cheekbones, the bridge of the nose and the chin. There are horns on the mask - sharp and slightly curved, they have aureate rings pierced through them that are twinkling cheerfully under the morning sun._

_"Quite a stealth technique there," the Knight muses. "The Hunter, I assume?" _

_The lightsaber's sputter fades and it's quiet again. Ren tilts his head slightly, perusing the figure anew. Who would've thought an ordinary field training would end up with such an encounter? Snoke's main concern, she is always a step ahead of Kylo Ren - always there to back up Resistance partisans in an uneven fight, always the first to lay her hands on the most wanted artefact. The Knight is pretty sure the figure before him is a she - a man can never be that elusive._

You find yourself holding a breath, mesmerised by the man before you. This faceless warrior radiates such an unfamiliar, alien persona and yet you swear you can still hear that deep voice through the mask's modulator. _His voice._

Embraced in winter light, his tall figure tenses when you jump off the rock, closing the distance between you.

_"One must be a fox in order to recognize traps, and a lion to frighten off wolves, Commander Ren," she ponders, walking round him - her back straight, steps light and almost soundless. "A lion you are, indeed, but a reckless one."_

Helmet to mask again, only a step between. You lean forward, your shoulder grazing over his stiff chest. The heat of his body - _so close_ \- envelops you like a wave and this closure is so _familiar _that your heart clenches in need. When your mask is inches away from his visor, you sense that the others are only mere metres away.

_"They had already set a trap, Ren. Watch your back."_

_A huff, but no anger in his voice - pure curiosity._

_"And what makes you think I would trust you?"_

_Behind, loud crunching of the snow distracts him just for a moment -_

_"Master Ren!"_

_-but it's enough for the Hunter to disappear. Kylo Ren snaps his head back, his gaze meeting nothing but empty woods. The snow's dust, disturbed, dances gracefully under the cold sun._

_The two Knights approached Ren, greeting him hastily. "Supreme Leader recalls us immediately. Your ship is ready to depart"._

He still looks impossibly tall, even from above. The two black figures behind him_ \- stinking _of fear and anger - are waiting patiently, while he lingers for a mere minute. Confused, slightly displeased.

“Ikkena,”

The man beside you shifts slightly, turning his masked face to you. _My Lady?_

"Time to go back."

_The two figures move in unison. The golden rings on her horns are jingling, twinkling under the sun rays with every movement the Hunter makes betwixt black trees._

* * *

You’re both laying down in your bed, exhausted from a full day of combat training. Cold shower was a blessing and so was the light nap you two have indulged in, falling asleep pressed against each other like pieces of puzzle.

Ben’s chest is the best pillow in the world, you decide as you nuzzle into his collarbone, placing a light kiss on the warm skin. His heartbeat is steady and deep under your throat; you feel his sore shoulders through the bond, noticing how the warmth of your chest against him sends ticklish needles down his spine. You smile and shift between his legs, earning a pleased hum that echoes in your core.

“Thought you wanted to rest,” you chuckle as you peer at Ben through your lashes.

His eyes are closed and you feel his mind dancing on the edge of consciousness, but his lazy grin is mischievous. He hums again, mirth filtering through your bond as he catches your sharp inhale.

“I am though”, Ben cracks an eye open to glance at you, his dimples peeking out as his grin deepens, “It’s you who can’t lay still.”

“You weren’t really complaining though, were you?” You pout at him, trying hard not to smile in return. His eyes fall on your lips as his smile fades, his desire to touch loud in your head.

Your hand finds his and you press his palm to your cheek, kissing the centre. Ben’s thumb smoothes over your brow and you catch it with another loving kiss before locking your eyes with his. Without breaking the contact, you softly bite the pad of his digit, tongue darting out to soothe the skin. Ben grunts, pressing the thumb deeper into your mouth, half-lidded eyes fixated on your lips.

“Your mouth is so soft”, he whispers as you caress the pad with your tongue and press your teeth against the scarred skin. You shift your lower body to push against his half-hard cock and he gasps, bare skin of his chest breaking out into goosebumps.

“Tease,”Ben mutters before dragging you up to press a lingering kiss on your lips. You smile, tilting your head to slide your tongue through his plush lips to connect it with his own. He locks you in a tight embrace, one of his hands carding through your hair as he tastes your mouth.

You pull away for a breath with a pleased hum only to bury your face in his neck, painting his skin red and purple with your teeth. Ben moans quietly as you worry a spot next to his ear and whispers your name like a prayer.

“Please…” he groans as your hips grind slowly, his fingers shifting to dig into your ass, desperately pushing you closer.

You trace his chest with your nails, making him shiver.

“I want to eat you,” you mutter in his ear only to swallow his low groan, sucking and biting his lips.

Ben almost whimpers when you pull away to trail open-mouthed kisses on his chest, stopping only to lavish his nipples with your tongue, which earns you a soft curse.

You are impatient.

Training with the young Jedi-to-be is always both a blessing and a curse: on the one hand, he is a formidable, cunning sparring partner, who pushes you both mentally and physically, but on the other… You find yourself ogling him on more than one occasion throughout your session.

He did not wear a tunic today. Black, skin tight clothing made out of heavenly soft Naboo cotton provided easier, swifter movement and accentuated everything that remained hidden under his Jedi robes. You ogled his broad back and thick biceps as he warmed up, all the while, unknowingly, warming _you_ up too. You almost moaned when he turned and squatted to stretch out his inner thighs, the shade of his dick shifting with movement.

You are hungry.

Ben feels you shift lower, positioning yourself between his parted legs. He hums and squirms as you tenderly kiss fresh bruises on his hipbones.

“Thank you.”

“You are very welcome,” you smirk at him, hand trailing down to his inner thigh, pressing soft circles into the skin.

His breath stutters when you lower your lips on his clothed cock, mouthing at the wet spot on his white boxers. One of your hands comes to rest on his abdomen, feeling the tensing muscles, while the other worms itself under one of his thighs, nails scratching at the tender skin.

Now he is impatient too. Ben tries to shift his crotch closer to your mouth, huffing in effort to keep his sounds in check. He grumbles your name.

“Take them off, take - _fuck_ \- off!”

You place one last wet kiss on his bulge and oblige him, fingers deft but slow as you free him inch by inch. Ben watches you, dark eyes gleaming dangerously, lips slightly parted; he lets out a content sigh as his dick bounces out of the irritating confines.

His cock is beautiful. Red and swollen, standing proud and ready for you. There are generous drops of precum gathered at the tip; they lazily slide down the shaft and you lick your lips at the sight, pussy wet and throbbing.

He catches you red-handed.

“Go ahead,” he drawls, parting his legs a little wider. His wink is wicked. “_Bon appetit._”

You inhale sharply at his words, hips twitching before you catch yourself, mustering a cocky smile. “_Thank you._”

Lowering your head, you lick the head with the tip of your tongue, teasing the slit with featherlight motions. Ben shifts, one hand fisting in the sheets, the other in your hair - your scalp tingles from his blunt nails and the soft whimper that escapes his throat.

You move away a little and his eyes are fixated on the little string of saliva that connects your pink tongue with his equally pink head. His gut clenches, voice hoarse as he calls out for you.

“Please.”

You hold his gaze as you lower yourself once again, this time relaxing your jaw to take as much of him as you can.

You are greedy. As your mouth works around his cock, prodding and sucking, you find yourself rolling your eyes at Ben’s soft moans and whimpers. He arches his back, chest red from exertion, as you draw infinities on the head, slicked hand pumping the rest of the shaft. You hear him through the bond too - _good, so good, such a good girl _**RIGHT THERE**_ fuck please yes harder so so good_ \- and you push your own feelings at him - how sweet he tastes, how beautiful he looks when he moans like that, how you want to fall asleep with your mouth full of his _gorgeous_ dick-

Ben moans loud and desperate, lips parted, swollen, as he watches your sorcery.

“Oh _fuck_, you are so dirty - _ah_ \- is that what you want?” He slurs, eyes almost rolling back into his skull as you hum around his swollen head. “Ah, yes…so goo-**FUCK**-so good to me.”

He pushes himself into a sitting position, his free hand joining its twin in your hair; he moves your tresses out of the way, smoothing them, watching your face as you increase your pace.

“Just like that, _yes_,” he grits out, growling your name, voice hoarse and needy, encouraging you to go faster and deeper. You relax your throat, taking as much as you can, your lips glistening with saliva and precum.

Ben watches you, hypnotised, muttering curses and praises into your gleaming face. You shift your tongue to his frenulum and tease it with the tip, which is enough to send him over the edge. He shivers and hunches over you with a guttural moan, hands stilling your head on his cock as warm jets of cum coat your mouth. You whimper, clawing at his inner thighs, desperately trying to swallow it all down, but some of it leaks out of the corners of your mouth and you moan around his sensitive cock, making him hiss.

You drink every last drop as he watches you with a lovesick gaze, hair wild and matted with sweat near his temples. He sends you his adoration - _you look so perfect like this, I can’t get enough of you_\- and his post-orgasmic fatigue. He is grateful, you realise, his shoulders are not as sore. You snicker at him as you place one last kiss on his cock and shift your head to lie on his soft thigh.

You bask in each other’s presence. Ben lowers himself to you level and presses a sweet kiss on your lips - _I love you_ \- before snuggling into the crook of your neck. You drink in his scent and doze off, limbs intertwined with his.


	4. path of the deathless

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i apologise for the delay, sometimes i swim in the sea of despair for too long, which tends to suck out every ounce of energy out of me. but it will pass. thank you for your continuous support.
> 
> i hope you are well; if not, remember that you are always in my thoughts, no matter where you are. 
> 
> feel free to check out this fic - https://archiveofourown.org/works/20831333/chapters/49519043, which i have posted to another account of mine. i'd love to hear your opinion on it. x

"It's a Force bond, Leia." Luke knits his brows as if remembering something. Something long gone, buried under the ashes of time. "Just like Padme and Anakin had. It's a Force bond."

"Does it mean?.." Transfixed with fear, Leia fails to form a coherent sentence, but the twin knows her words.

"No," he lets out a soft smile, revealing whitish wrinkles near his eyes. "I have not seen the same outcome in any vision of mine."

He lies, but they don't need to know that. Luke sees a sequence of visions over the span of three nights and in each one he is a witness - the princess slaughtered by her lover's blade, a crimson red flow of energy, hot like her blood on his dark garments. At that moment, he is not Ben anymore. So Luke lies and they do not need to know that.

Han, still deep in thought, is looking at Luke intently while the latter speaks, blue eyes searching the Jedi's face for something else, some ulterior knowledge that his friend tries to hide - but why? If there is nothing wrong, if he has not seen the same outcome, then surely it's all okay. Then maybe the darker influence will be smothered by this newly acquired relationship, but Han still remembers Vader's looming shadow, his suffocating presence. He pushes the thoughts away, focusing on Luke's tales on Ben's progress.

* * *

A rapid swing and the lightsaber's sputter fades into a low thrum. Master of the Knights of Ren holds the weapon closer to his masked face, curiously examining the red blade as it was shrunk in half.

"It is made out of Cortosis," the Hunter hums, her wide blade light in her hand, spearheaded against the dark warrior before her. They are back at the same place where they first met, but it is drastically different now: the space has awoken from the winter slumber. In an attempt to map out an escape, tiny brooks have scarred the muddy earth that was already broken open by gnarled oak roots proudly protruding from the surface. Nature is fascinating in its doing - everything's in its right place. Just like the two figures in the middle of the glade.

"Your lightsaber can do no damage to it, Kylo Ren," hindered by the mask, Hunter's voice is a soft whisper, coaxing Ren to relax. The Knight brings his gaze back to her and marvels at the blade - a beautifully made piece of weaponry with engraved text on it. It is not Basic, but Kylo recognises it, yet as he begins to read the message, she shifts the blade, thrusting it into the ground before her.

"What a rare possession. I am impressed," Kylo Ren whispers, surprisingly collected - something that does not happen to him often. The fact that it took her a swing to disarm him does not anger the Knight and just like his inability to enter her mind, rather spurs him on. Kylo turns his lightsaber off and clips it back to his waist. With a slow exhale still audible from behind the mask, he takes the hood of his cloak off.

"You have been a great pain of mine, Hunter,” he clasps both hands behind his back, slowly approaching her. "I have never imagined that a single person could be such an impediment to all my plans," his lips twitch underneath the mask as she mockingly bows to him. "And I wonder," as the Knight comes closer, she stands calm and proud - a rare sight for Kylo Ren to witness from his enemies. "How come you still seek such private meetings with me?" He towers over her lithe frame, standing too opened, too close. What an exciting display.

The Hunter tilts her head to the side, regarding him for a moment, the golden hoops on her horns coming to live with the motion. "Maybe I just enjoy your company, Commander." He can almost see her little smile and for some reason, he imagines a far too familiar face underneath the shadow of the mask. "Maybe," pulling her weapon out of the pliant ground, she takes a measured step towards the Knight. "I just see a worthy opponent in you." She glances at the space that surrounds them, her body language easy and relaxed, as if she's standing next to a good friend, rather than the Commander of the First Order. Ren does not know if her lackadaisical attitude irks or placates him.

"Maybe I just find you too intriguing to ignore." The mask turns back back to the Knight, regarding him curiously. Somehow, Ren manages to smother the itching urge to tear the dark hindrance in one rapid motion.

* * *

He is ubiquitous. Your thoughts drift back to him every second - whether you’re at a meeting with the elders, or meditating, his balmy signature seemed to find its place in the back of your head, like it belonged there in the first place. You don’t really complain: the attraction your feel towards Ben Organa-Solo is a siren’s song that softens your every move and makes your skin glow. You turn into a cloud under his watchful gaze.

Ben catches you daydreaming on the lower balcony. The Daedalian archway that leads to the platform frames the view perfectly, but he thinks that no artist will ever do you justice. His eyes trace the curve of your hip and the arch of your spine. Would you bend like a cat if he traced a hand along your skin?

“Princess.” You look over your bare shoulder and daze him with a gleaming smile.

“What a surprise, Padawan,” there is a mischievous twinkle in your eyes that rouses butterflies in Ben’s stomach, “I thought Master Luke was not done for the day.” You look him up and down and smirk, “You look well-rested.”

Ben chuckles at your teasing, moving to stand beside you, “Thank you. We only managed to train this morning before Master promptly left,” he leans his elbow on the marble, head slightly tilted, “Apparently, he had some unfinished business he needed to attend.” He stands close enough to see the hypnotic glow of your iris under the late evening sun. Your eyes pierce his soul, stripping him of his phantasmal armour, leaving him incomplete, wanting more. He wants to taste your skin, to burn his tongue raw with your taste, to swallow you whole. The overwhelming thoughts petrify him, but only for a short while.

“What an enigma,” you hum, snickering at Ben’s failed attempt to keep composure. You think it’s the most beautiful you’ve seen him yet: dimpled, corners of his eyes crinkling with a boyish smile, dark hair framing his face in unruly waves. The image is a strong contender for the first place, although his flushed face during combat training is certainly a worthy rival. Your nails bite the inside of your palm as you fight the urge to touch him.

“Maybe you should join us next time.” Half-lidded eyes watch you, gentle, hopeful, full of warmth, “I doubt he’ll be as eager to run away.”

Your heart goes into overdrive. Sparring with him? Holding his hands in a meditative half-slumber? Your skin prickles at the countless possibilities of physical and spiritual contiguity.

“I might be a bad influence,” you muse, eyes trained on his in a hypnotic reverence.

Ben chuckles, rich and indulgent. “Oh, I’m sure. However, I am an incredibly assiduous pupil,” he shrugs, smirk lurking in the corners of his mouth, “so good luck with that.”

_Unbelievable. Han and Leia’s son through and through. _

“Alright, Padawan,” he curtly bows his head when you sway away from the marble railing, “Tomorrow morning we’ll both find out if your skill is as sharp as your tongue.” Your eyes meet for a moment, before you disappear behind the intricate arch with a leisurely saunter.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for taking the time to read my work, I hope you enjoyed it! Please feel free to leave kudos and comments <3


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